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“This place is amazing.”
“It should be, for what I paid for it.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Wanna see the rest?”
“Sure.”
Setting her on her feet, he led the way into a room paneled in dark oak. A forest-green carpet covered the floor, matching drapes hung at the barred, single window. A pair of floor-to-ceiling bookcases stood on either side of the window. Brass figurines of mounted knights and dragons were scattered among the numerous volumes on the shelves. A life-sized wooden Indian, complete with warbonnet and lance, stood in the far corner. A large desk, which held only a laptop computer, dominated the room. She noted the small white refrigerator located beside the desk. No need to ask what that was for.
“I take it you read a lot,” Kay remarked, glancing at the bookcases.
Gideon nodded. “You could say that.”
“And the wooden Indian?”
“I picked it up cheap at an antique store that was going out of business. Are you offended by it?”
“No, just curious.”
“Guess I’ve always had a thing for Indians,” he said with a wink.
“You’re just saying that.”
“No. I spent a couple of months with a small tribe of Cherokee back in the late 1700s. Nice people.”
“Hmm.” Her gaze drifted back to the bookcases. His taste was eclectic, she thought as she perused the titles. There were several plays by Shakespeare, poetry by Blake and Yeats, novels by Tolstoy and Kipling, King and Koontz and Clancy, and, to her amusement, the works of Stephenie Meyer.
Grinning inwardly, she followed him down a carpeted hallway that ended in a bedroom that would have held her entire apartment. The walls were a clean, crisp white, the bedspread and drapes a deep wine red. Carpet that must have been two inches thick muffled her footsteps as she moved around the room. The biggest bed she had ever seen stood against the far wall, flanked by a pair of ebony nightstands. A matching entertainment center held a TV and dozens of DVDs. Most of the wall across from the bed was taken up by a fireplace with a raised marble hearth.
A bathroom appointed in marble and gold-veined tile adjoined the bedroom.
Kay shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Did you decorate the place yourself?”
He snorted. “Hardly. I hired a fancy decorator who charged me a ridiculous amount of money for this layout.”
“Well, it was worth it.”
Coming up behind her, Gideon slid his arms around Kay’s waist and nuzzled the side of her neck. “How would you like to try out the bed?”
“Not on our first date,” she answered primly. “I’d like to be romanced first.”
“Romanced, huh?” He nipped the tender skin just beneath her earlobe. “I’ll see what I can do.”
* * *
Chapter 12
Later that night, after Kay had gone to bed, Gideon left the house to go hunting. New York City was one of his favorite hunting grounds. No matter the time of night, prey was never hard to find, whether it was some drunken bum down on his luck, a world-weary hooker trolling for one last trick before calling it a night, or some small-town tourist foolish enough to go out alone after midnight.
Gideon strolled along Broadway, past Times Square. In the early sixties and seventies, this part of the city had been a red light district, but these days it was more family-oriented. Moving on, he came to that part of Broadway known as the Great White Way, so named for the millions of lights of theater marquees and billboards. Most of the theaters were dark now. He glanced at the marquees—The Lion King, Wicked, and the ubiquitous Phantom of the Opera, which he had seen perhaps a dozen times.
His hunger quickened when he spied a young couple looking at the posters in front of a theater. On cat-quiet feet, he moved up behind them. Speaking to their minds, he commanded them to follow him.
Faces slack, expressions blank, they trailed behind him as he moved toward the deep shadows near the theater doors. He took the male quickly, the female more slowly, his whole being focused on the woman in his arms, the scent of her hair and skin, the warmth of her blood quenching his thirst. Her blood was sweeter than Kay’s. Even so, he wished it was Kay he held in his embrace, Kay’s blood easing his hunger.
After satisfying his thirst, he wiped the incident from the couple’s minds and sent them, none the wiser, on their way.
Hands shoved in his pockets, Gideon turned for home. So, Kiya the werewolf wanted to be romanced, did she? He grinned at the idea and then, with that thought in mind, he headed for the mall located in the heart of the city. It was closed at this hour, but that wasn’t a problem for him. The owner was a friend. And a vampire.
On waking, Kay stretched her arms over her head, and then froze as she realized she was in a strange bed in a strange room, and that she wasn’t alone. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and who was lying beside her.
Turning onto her side, she regarded the sleeping vampire. He was bare to the waist, revealing a broad chest, wide shoulders, and six-pack abs that would have made any male model jealous. She realized, abruptly, that he wasn’t breathing. When she touched his arm, he didn’t move. She worried her lower lip with her teeth. Maybe vampires really were dead when they slept. A creepy thought, that, sharing a bed with a dead man, even one as roguishly handsome and sexy as Gideon Marquet.
And with that in mind, she practically jumped out of the bed, only then noticing the flowers set around the room—vases of red roses and pink carnations occupied every flat surface save for the dresser, which held a large white box and two shoe boxes. Her name was scrawled across the box tops in a bold hand. Opening the largest box, she found two pairs of jeans, a pink T-shirt, a couple of sweaters, and three changes of underwear, all the right size. The first shoe box held a pair of strappy black sandals; the second, a pair of white sneakers.
She ran her hand over a pair of silky black bikini panties, wondering how he had known what size she wore. But she didn’t care. She selected an aqua sweater and a pair of jeans and carried them, along with a bra and panties, into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her.
There were more flowers in the bathroom—roses, again—along with a new toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, and a comb. Heaven bless the man for his thoughtfulness.
With a shake of her head, she dropped her dirty clothes on the floor and placed the clean ones on the counter. When she opened the shower door, she found a bottle of shampoo, a new bar of soap, a pretty pink washcloth, and a single red rose.
